


Deluge

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [464]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-05 05:28:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11571309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: Anonymous askedHello. Is it okay if I ask for a story about Gordon, Alan, and a flood rescue?





	1. Chapter 1

Alan never thought he’d see Gordon grumpy to be wet.  “Too shallow to swim, too deep to wade,” Gordon growled at Alan’s incredulous look.  “Also, I’m pretty sure there’s sewerage in this.”

Alan’s laugh turned into a groan. He hadn’t thought of that, but now that’s  _all_  he be thinking about as they pushed on towards the knot of houses nestled on the side of a slight rise in the landscape.  He’s already pretty sure that Virgil was straight up bullshitting them about Two’s downdraft pushing the waters around and making the flooding worse, and the rain just would not  _stop_.

Scott had told them they’d organize a unimog if there were enough folk to get out, but they had lost contact with the community when the power went, and it was no good wasting resources evacuating empty houses.  And so, Alan and Gordon trudged on.

“I spy with my little eye,” Gordon sang out a minute later.  Alan was sure the landscape was telescoping; the houses seemed just as far away as before.  “Something beginning with C.”

Alan knew his brother well.  “Crap?”

Gordon kicked a splash of water at him.  “Correct.  Crappy weather, crappy muddy water with actual crap in it, and a crappy brother sending us out on this crappy detail while he stays nice and snug and dry in his crappy Thunderbird.”

In his helmet, there was a click.  “Aren’t you glad,” John all but purred in their ears.  “That I know you so well that I put your line to Scott on a ten second delay.  Because if he heard you badmouthing One, wading floodwaters would be the least of your problems.”

Gordon just snorted, but Alan heard some of his usual good humour in the noise.  “Is it nice and dry up there, Johnny?”

“The clouds are actually kind of pretty from this side.”

Gordon must have known he couldn’t kick a splash into orbit, but he gave it a damn good try.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the commenters are to blame for this bit

Watching John freshly dirtside was an exercise in second-hand agony. Gravity was a clearly gnawing force that dragged at every limb, and turned a competent Thunderbird into a pathetic figure in pajamas.

"Self-inflicted," Scott said without sympathy. "You know better than to skip ground rotations."

John scowled but didn't even flip him off, which was how Alan knew he was really suffering. "A nice hot shower always makes me feel better," he chirped, carefully _not_ looking at Gordon.

Virgil, beautiful, clueless, sweet and kind Virgil even chimed in. "Yeah, real water shower, Jay, go on. You know you want to."

John wanted. He went.

Scott waited until Virgil left the room before turning to the two youngest. "Whatever it is, don't torture him too badly."

Gordon's smirk should have been answer enough.

By the time they'd made it upstairs and into John's room, they could hear the banging. "Toasty warm in there, Johnny boy?" Gordon sang out through the steamed glass as he perched himself on the edge of the basin.

Alan sat on the closed toilet as a stream of profanity flowed out from the sealed shower cubicle. It had taken them forever to rig up a magnetic lock that John wouldn't notice until it was too late, but still strong enough to hold the glass door firmly shut. "Gordon, open the door or I swear to god...." There was an impotent noise as John screwed his temper down. "At least turn off the shower."

That the shower was rigged too was news to Alan. "Nope. You're barely at flow. That flood was over 200 cumecs, you've got a lot of water to go yet, Johnny boy."

A flat hand appeared on the glass, smearing the steam. "Counteroffer," John replied in his Thunderbirds voice. Alan straightened almost instinctively. "Let me out, and I'll show you how to get Scott."

Getting Scott was the holy grail of family pranking -- Alan had never achieved the feat. Scott had dodged every plastic-wrapped toilet and shaving-foam bomb he'd ever rigged. He nodded quickly at Gordon's glance.

The remote beeped, and the shower cut off as the door unlocked, sending John tumbling to the floor, naked and dripping. "Uh, Alan? Pass me that towel?"

Gordon snatched it out of Alan's hands and held it out over John. "Start talking."

John may not be the strongest of them, but Alan always forgot how _flexible_ he was. He slithered on the tiles, twisting in one motion to wrap Gordon in a scissor kick that landed him hard in a puddle. "Okay," John said, sitting up and taking the dropped towel. "Now you're down on my level, let's talk."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blame sineater

The three of them in the space elevator was a tight fit, but it was better than the alternative.

John claimed the central and only seat like a throne, like it was his right, and the other two yielded without demure. Alan's eyes were like saucers as they started the climb. "John, I...I..."

Gordon gave up on words entirely and just dropped to his knees to kotow as fully as he could in the cramped space. "I yield the crown of family prankster to you."

"Keep it," John snapped, but he was fighting a smile. "That was one show only, no encores."

Gordon sat back on his haunches and sighed. He still had a smudge of flour on the tip of his nose, but his eyes were bright as the light through the window started to dwindle into the twilight of the upper atmosphere. "It's like Michelangelo putting down his brush, Batman putting aside the cowl." He mimed wiping a tear away. "A loss, a true loss."

Alan only started to find his balance as the sensation of gravity shifted into the forces of still bodies riding an elevator up into space. "Seriously, how long have you been planning that?"

John pulled up a display, checked some numbers, nodded to himself. "That's the trick, kids," he said paternally. "With Scott you don't plan. You just press every button at once and run. Oh, speaking of..." The IR call signal began to flash insistently in the holo. "I think this is for us?"

The call connected mid-screech, Scott's apoplectic rage like static on the line. In the tiny holo, Virgil sighed, massaging his temples. "The next time you try something like that," he said, raising his voice to be heard over the yelling. "Let me know so I can take two weeks vacation very, _very_ far away from him."

Virgil was shoved aside gently as Kayo's head appeared on screen. "Thunderbird Five might now have a permanent three-man crew," she noted, looking mildly impressed. "I don't think he'll forget the fish in his bed for a while."

Gordon leaned on the edge of John's chair, balancing easily on his knees. "Their names are Huey, Dewey and Louis, and they eat that fish food you'll find on the bottom shelf in the pantry."

Kayo was openly laughing now. "Do I even want to know how you turned a bedroom into an aquarium?"

John's fingers tapped a tattoo on Gordon's forearm. "Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies."

Virgil reclaimed the holo. "We'll let you know when it's safe to be within Scott's striking distance. Oh, and guys?" Virgil held his hands up under his chin and gave them a discreet little golf clap.

In the background, Scott's yelling took on a higher pitch. "I think he found where desk went," Gordon noted with a wicked grin.

Kayo winked and the comms cut off.

The laughter from the tiny vessel was sucked up by the growing vacuum around them as they made their escape.


End file.
